


eyes wide shut

by Marystormshade



Category: Boyfriend to Death (Visual Novel)
Genre: Blindness, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Gore, Kidnapping, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Other, Past Rape/Non-con, Rape/Non-con Elements, Reader-Insert, Rough Oral Sex, Sadism, Stockholm Syndrome, Yikes, one way tickets to hell sold here, this is not a happy story guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-09
Updated: 2016-12-09
Packaged: 2018-09-07 12:53:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8801563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marystormshade/pseuds/Marystormshade
Summary: No one ever said Strade took 'good' care of his pets.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Baby, I'm a sociopath,  
> Sweet serial killer.  
> On the warpath,  
> 'Cause I love you  
> Just a little too much.
> 
> -Lana Del Rey, Serial Killer

Waking up was a hard process. Your tongue felt like cotton and when you swallowed it tasted like iron.

Awareness came like a fog. You’d never felt this disoriented before.

First you felt the cement floor of the basement, cold and hard but familiar. The inside of your skull was on fire, it was either a migraine or a concussion- no way to know really.  Next was the sharp pinch of the collar fitted around you. Then the pain, the mangled mess of your knee, the lacerations on your arms and legs, the pull of the stitches on your thigh.

You tried not to think about the old dry stickiness between your thighs.

Nothing good would come from that.

It was dark too. Were the lights off? No...

There was something covering your eyes- thick and opaque, surprisingly soft.  


"Hey buddy, you're awake."  
You swiveled your head in the direction you thought you'd heard him from. You winced when you felt more than heard him crouch down to you.   
"I was worried. You were pretty tuckered after all the fun we had last night." He managed to sound concerned. A hand ran through your hair, gently at first, before tugging occasionally.

You shuddered and felt bile rise.

_hold itholdit don't think about itdontfuckingthink_

There were fingers at your lips and you opened up obediently.  


y _ou never would have done this before. there was a time when you would have bit down, hard._

_but you learned and you learned fast_.  


You felt the hand in you hair slither down and seize upon your throat, until you sputtered on the fingers in your mouth and started drooling. Strade pushed down on your tongue and tugged sharply, once, twice, humming when you tried to shriek at the sharp pain. The hand moved further, to the stitches on your thigh.

The fingers almost tickled along the puckered skin, and you almost hoped that that would be all.

 

_silly girl_

 

He began tugging softly at the thread in your skin.  
"This has been in long enough, ja, haustier?"  
You shook your head as best you could around his fingers.  
He pulled himself from your mouth.  
"Hmm?" He hummed encouragingly, wanting you to continue.  
"I-I don't think that-" you were stopped by his hands pulling the healing wound apart as you choked on your breath and tried in vain to squirm away. 

Fuck- you could hear the stitches tearing.

His thumbs dug in sharply and you felt heat and blood well up to meet him and his ministrations. Soon you felt him slip in, the muscle of your inner thigh straining against his fingers. He pushed deeper, into the softness and flesh and you cried out, loudly at the way his fingers stretched and tugged at your wound like it was something else entirely.

"Ahh~" Strade breathed, and you could imagine his flushed face and hooded eyes and  ridiculously, for a moment felt embarrassed.

It felt like he had pushed his fingers up between the muscle and the skin, to some crevice inside the wet heat he kept tearing open. You screamed because _ohshitoh shit_ he just tore something out of you.

There’s the sound of blood dripping on the floor, and you could feel sweat all over. It was hard to breathe, even as you gasped. Through your panting and Strade’s low moans you heard what sounded distinctly like a large swallow. Strade made a noise between a growl and a moan.

At least he hadn’t asked if you were hungry.

Shuffling reached your ears as Strade stood from you and walked away towards his work bench, looking for a new tool most likely.

Whimpering at the stretch of your leg, you rolled your neck and let your chin fall onto your chest for a moment.

_I can probably get this blindfold off_

So, you shook your head gently. You sat up, leaning against the wall above metal pipe you had been bound to, and letting the back of your head slide down it. You did this a few times until you felt some slack form in the blindfold. You stopped. Strade hadn’t made any noise, which meant he was either gone or staring at you in silence. You weren’t sure which option was better but you didn’t like not knowing.

You slid down once more, and you felt the blindfold pull itself off.

And again, you stopped.

Your breathing hitched as your blood turned to ice and you felt your stomach knot itself around and around like Strade had twirled his knife in your intestines and was just playing with them or like he’d put a bunch of butterfly eggs in your food and now they were hatching because

 

because-

 

_why was it still dark_

 

“Oh buddy. You shouldn’t have taken the blindfold off.” Came Strade’s voice, closer than you had anticipated initially. His closeness meant nothing though, not now.  
You shut your eyes, tightly, and opened them again. Your breathing hitched and you wailed. 

“W-wh-w-str-strad-e.” You gasped and pleaded. You were frantic. You were pulling at you arms with all your strength. You didn’t know what you wanted, what you needed.  
You needed to scream and run and hide. You needed Strade to drop dead. You needed Strade to come here and hold you-hurt you- just rip you apart- 

_anything except this nothing_

“The blindfold was so you didn’t get to worked up.” And oh god he actually sounded somewhat remorseful and how fucked was that. There was a hand on you chin, pulling it upwards harshly, the other working its way to your hair.  
“Are you? Worked up? Hast du angst?”

_Fuck yes yesyesyesnono scaredscaredscaredafraid fuck icantseecantseecantseecANT SEE_

“The collar wasn’t enough. Because, and listen buddy, I mean really listen,” the hand on your chin pried open your mouth. “You still weren’t convinced, I could tell.” Strade pushed a ring of metal past your teeth and you whined because _what the fuck he was going to do this now?_

“It’s okay though, liebling. Now even when you’re better trained, we won’t have to worry about you running off.” The hand in your hair tightened and you could smell the familiar faint muskiness that was Strade as he came closer.

_i wouldn’t have left i wouldn’t have i wouldn’t have Strade Strade I’m scared pleasepleaseplease did i do something wrong_

“Besides, I made sure you could still cry.” He said, jollily. And then he sheathed himself fully past the ring gag and into your throat.

You sobbed, gargling and choking on your saliva. Your nose was running, and your tongue was lashing pitifully and spastically against Strade.

You could feel tears running down your cheeks, and wasn’t that just funny?

Strade seemed to think so, as in between his breathy pants he chuckled and ran his thumb along the streaks, pushing hard into your cheek until it pressed past your teeth and rubbed against him.

You were making noises, mixed between choking on the smooth slide of Strade, the panicked breaths you tried to take and the harsh body wracking sobs that shuddered through you. The headache from earlier was back and so much louder than before, and there was a clear ache behind your eyelids now that you paid attention.

You realized you could hear _everything_.

He finished quicker than usual, and deliriously, you thought that your eyes must look pretty fucked if he enjoyed it that much. He didn’t pull out, and you coughed against him and the saltiness in your throat (not that it helped). He stayed inside your mouth as he looked down on you and ran his fingers through your filthy hair.

“Ahhhhh~was für ein gutes mädchen!” Strade crooned, patting your cheek as he pulled back. You gasped as best you could with your mouth held open by the ring. Something wet and thick was sliding out of the sides of your mouth and you could only imagine the sight you looked.

“I know you’re upset,” Strade started from his place above you, “but try to see this from my perspective. I’m keeping you, pal,” You choked on your tongue and the saltiness in your mouth when you felt the heel of his boot grind harshly into the wound he had opened previously.  
“ _No matter what.”_ Strade finished, a strange tremor in his voice.  
You almost cried when you felt his hands move to untie your wrists, and begin to undo the ring gag. You licked around your sore mouth and swallowed, relieved.  
“You understand, right, buddy?” Strade asked, and it sent maggots crawling in your stomach because yes yes yes you understood. You couldn’t stop yourself from reaching shakily, grabbing at the rough fabric of his cargo pants and clinging like a child.  

"Y-yes St-st-strade I won’t, I won’t, I’ll stay I promise I promise I promise” you cried out between shudders. You were babbling you knew, you couldn’t stop, you were just so scared and so relieved and Strade was here, and he would hurt you and he would take care of you.

You missed the blinding smile Strade sent your way, as he cradled your throat, a touch past polite as his hand splayed over your collar and thumbed at the crevice of your throat.

“That’s good. That’s really good. I’m glad.”

You shivered at his admission in a way that wasn’t entirely repulsed.  
Blearily you wondered if you should be worried about that.  
Blearily you realized, you didn’t care.

**Author's Note:**

> sorry lol


End file.
